I Want to Tell You
by CliCliW
Summary: Hamlet has relearned the value of love, and who he'd always felt he should love. Hamlet/Horatio fluff! First attempt at Hamlet!


**Title: **I Want to Tell You…

**Author:** Cliona Whitelaw

**Fandom: Shakespeare: **Hamlet

**Summary: **Hamlet wonders about life, love and death.

**Pairing: **Hamlet/Horatio

**Rating: ** PG/13 I guess...

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the poor monkey wrench that is Hamlet, I'm merely borrowing him from Shakespeare. Promise I'll return any and all characters, settings, etc.. to him after I'm done..

**Note: **I have a feeling that any Shakespeare talk I try will come out strange, so I'm not gonna use Shakespeare talk in this fic…

There were a few things that Hamlet had learned in Purgatory.

Purgatory; that damned fiery Hell where he was cursed to spend his non-existence until his soul was efficiently "purged" of evil. Or until he was purged of his soul. He wasn't sure which was the more appropriate.

Firstly, he'd learned that the Pit was a lot worse than he had imagined - worse than anyone could imagine. Devils and Demons had tormented him in more ways than he'd thought possible, using anything and everything against him. He'd suffered torture, death and dismemberment in so many ways by now that he could barely think of words apt enough to describe his experiences.

Then, he'd learned that no man is bound for Hell unless he falls to the temptation and damnation of the Devil. It had taken him a long time to learn what that meant, but he'd figured it out eventually. The spirit he'd thought was his father was nothing more than an elaborate scheme by a demon determined to reap Hamlet's soul. Any acts of kindness, love or admiration for Hamlet's mother that he'd seen were nothing more than that; acts. Everything was planned. He'd followed the orders of an unknown spirit and unwittingly signed his soul over to demons of evil in the process. Regardless that the Demon that had taken his father's form and provided sound information, Hamlet's murdering and treachery had signed him up to a very _very _long sentence in the fiery prison.

Not everything he'd learned had proved to make a fool of him. He'd learned from others he'd met momentarily in Hell that Young Fortinbras was a strong, wise and noble leader. Even those that had considered him an adversary in battle could only speak the highest praise of his abilities. Hamlet felt he could almost rest at ease knowing that the person he'd elected as his successor was the best man for the job. At least one good thing had come of Hamlet's death.

Having gone through Hellfire and Ice, Hamlet was almost certain that an eternal insanity was the only thing he could look forward to after being spit out of the fieriest parts of Hell. He had been granted the liberty of sometimes being able to 'stroll' on Earth, just because a Demon had mentioned something about 'rewarding' Hamlet's valiance so far. So Hamlet could wander Earth sometimes.

There was only one place wanted to spend those times, because most of all, Hamlet had learned the truth about a force he'd once believed so powerful it could transcend death itself. His mother had ruined any and all romantic views that Hamlet had had of it by whoring herself to her brother-in-law.

Hamlet had relearned the value of love.

It might have happened some time in Hell, realising that through everything that had happened, one person had never once doubted anything Hamlet said or asked of him. That man had never once questioned Hamlet's motives or sanity (something that even Hamlet had begun to doubt near the end of his life). Thoughts of him had probably helped Hamlet clutch onto whatever sanity he had left.

Hamlet chuckled to himself quietly. The irony wasn't lost on him; he'd learned to love and hope again in a place where hope and love were never meant to be attainable. A stirring brought him back from his musings again. He looked down at the man sleeping in the warm safety of a bed. Hamlet was sitting at the edge of this bed. Manifesting in the real world was a difficult task to perform, but Horatio was worth it. If only Hamlet could do more than just appear as a wispy, almost formless spirit. What he wouldn't give to be able to crawl into that bed and curl up next to Horatio, to feel the warmth and comfort of the one he loved almost protecting him from the flames waiting to engulf him again.

But Horatio slept on, unknowing and unperturbed by the ghostly figure sitting on his bed.

Hamlet watched him sleep soundly, wondering what the scholar was dreaming about. Sometimes, Horatio mumbled in his sleep, but he'd never once awoken while Hamlet was in his presence. In truth, Hamlet was both somewhat disappointed and somewhat relieved by this fact. He wasn't sure how Horatio might handle seeing him. Hamlet sighed and lay a hand on Horatio's blanket covered shoulder.

A quick glance out the small window of Horatio's quarters told him that yet another night was up. But Hamlet wasn't ready to go. A night never felt long enough when Hamlet spent it watching over Horatio. He stood up, feeling the heat of Hell slowly reaching out to him to pull him back into its depths. Throwing another glance at the lightening East sky, Hamlet decided that it was now or never.

Turning back to Horatio, he leaned down and brushed Horatio's forehead with his lips. A cock crowed somewhere in the distance. His time on Earth was finished for another night. Hamlet faded, returning to the heat of Hell for more unspeakable torment.

Horatio awoke slowly. Something felt different. He looked around nervously, Then brought his hand up to his forehead, feeling the place where Hamlet had kissed him thoughtfully. After a few moments' contemplation, he smiled.

He finally felt a sensation he hadn't felt since his Sweet Prince had been snatched away by death.

Horatio felt complete again, like his love was accepted and returned a thousand times over.

~FIN~


End file.
